Touch Me Not
by dauntlesslydemigod
Summary: "Ever since the day I met you, you've turned everything upside down. You're wrong for me, Clary, don't you see?" He whispered, his hands clenching into fists. "After all these years, you - you make me want to live. You almost make me believe that I deserve you, when I know that I don't." The only thing Jace had ever known was darkness. Till he met her. Clary. HIS Clary.
As Clary picked on her fry, nibbling at it mindlessly, she let her gaze wander around the cafeteria. She didn't know how exactly the tables here had been sorted out, but they had been segregated for as long as she could remember.

On the table closest to her was the slut gang, the girls whose outfits could very easily be mistaken for dishcloths. Not surprisingly, all the players and jocks of the school: tall, muscled guys with girls in their laps, happened to be there as well. The level of PDA at that table was always so high that if she looked too long, she would lose her appetite.

Next was the nerd table. Almost every human on that table had power five horn rimmed glasses resting on their noses, and Clary had never seen their faces as they were always buried in some book. Not that she didn't like any of them, but then she didn't know any of them. She also sometimes doubted if they even knew each other at all.

Then of course, there was the table she herself was sitting on.  
They were what the school called the 'cream'. On this table were all the students who could do something which was counted to be a talent. Painting, writing, programming … you name it. She liked the students at her table the best, probably because she knew she fit among them.

And then there was the table at the back of the hall. Where he would always be, alone.

She unconsciously felt herself crane her neck to look at the dark smudge among the flurry of colors in the hall.

Jace Wayland.

After the Bermuda Triangle, he was the biggest mystery she knew of. He was a shadow: Dressed in black the whole years round, she wondered if _anyone_ at school knew him at all. He had been at school much longer than her, and whenever his name came up in the girl circles (which was a lot) hushed whispers were all that followed.

She had, of course heard of the story that ran around the school: How he once almost banged a girl's head into the wall when she tried to kiss him. No serious damage had happened, to the wall or to her head, but Jace Wayland became a man no one messed with.

Somehow, despite being the name on every student's tongue at Shadow Heights, he sat alone at his table every day, no one daring to close up to him. There were some guys he sometimes spoke to, but it was clear that he liked keeping to himself.

"Gosh. Stop staring, Clary! He'll probably crack open your skull next." Isabelle giggled next to her and she blushed. Shoving her best friend, Clary tucked a loose strand of her fiery red hair behind her ears self-consciously.

"I'm not staring. I was just – looking. At the notice board behind him." Clary shot back, and Isabelle raised her perfectly done eyebrows in amusement.

"Really?" She drawled out. "Well then, what does the notice board say, sweetie?" She crossed her arms across her chest as Clary mumbled something incoherent before stuffing her face with fries.

"See? You can't fool me. It's okay, though. He _is_ kind of hot." Isabelle exhaled dreamily. "Why did he have to be so damn good looking despite being a perfect ass?"

Clary just shook her head, thinking over what her friend had just said. She had once bumped into him and dropped all her books, and he had helped her pick them up. She had, of course, not missed the opportunity to _actually_ see him up close.

His hair, cropped close to his head, were a perfect shade of gold. His eyes were a beautiful shade of amber, almost shining. He looked like one of the models in the magazines her mother was always flipping across.

 _Damn. He was hot._

"Hello? Wohoo? Clary, come back from the dreamland, sugar cheeks." Isabelle smirked and Clary smacked her arm. "Shut up." She said hotly, picking up her lunch tray and pushed it into the garbage can. "Let's go. It's about time for my class."

Isabelle shot up, her gleaming curls bouncing ever so slightly. Her outfits were never skimpy, but exuded just the right amount of sex appeal. She was quite popular in the school, not just because of her looks, but because with her, you always know where you stand.

"Oh of course! How in the name of Merlin could I ever forget? You have your first Scholarship Art class today!" She smacked her forehead.

Clary's face broke into a huge grin as she pulled out her canvas and paints. She had been waiting for this class since grade 3, and now she could barely wait.

Ever since their school began, they had an art competition every year for the grade 11 students. The two winners were selected for a two-month workshop in the Art College of London, where Clary desperately wanted an admission after her school finishes.

Her school took a special art class till the competition to train the interested students.

And boy, was Clary interested.

Isabelle pulled out her books from the next locker and gave Clary a flying kiss. "Tell me all about it after the school gets over, okay? See ya."  
Clary gave her a huge smile. "See ya!"

As she made her way to her class, she couldn't wipe off the smile on her face. It was finally happening! Just as she reached the bend of the corridor, she felt someone block her way.

"Hey."

Clary's body stiffened immediately at the all too familiar voice as she took a step before looking at the guy who stood in front of her with an icy, ignorant glance.

"Hello Sebastian." Her voice, usually soft as a feather was now iron hard. He noticed it and flinched slightly before trying to take a step closer to her. "Listen Clares –"

She shot him a warning glare, holding out a hand to stop him from coming any closer. "My name, Sebastian, is Clary. And I have a class to attend. Get out of my way, will you?"

She looked at him straight in his coal black eyes she once loved. The message she sent was clear enough: Go to hell.

Sebastian sighed before moving aside to let her pass. Just as she crossed him, he called out. "I love you, Clary Morgenstern. Please, _please_ come back to me, Clares."

Clary didn't let his words affect her body the way they did her heart. Her ears buzzed as she willed her legs to walk till she was out of his line of vision. Then, she felt them give way as she blindly sat down on a chair in an empty classroom, her eyes burning with unshed tears.

 _He says he loves you._ _What if he really does?_ The irrational Clary piped up inside her brain. _It could have been a misunderstanding, you know. He means it when he says he loves you still. Just go back to him, and things will go back to the way they were._

For a moment, she actually believed it. That the love she had for him would all come back, maybe because it never left.

But then, the real Clary spoke up softly, bringing her back to her senses. _He's doing it again; don't you see? It's the same: The lies, the fake concern, the insincere love. Don't let him win, Clary. Be strong."_

And as she stood up from the chair, her heart as cold as ice, she knew what she had to do.

Sebastian Verlac might have had a place in her heart some time back, but he didn't deserve it any longer. And no lie would get him some ever again.

She suddenly looked at her watch and gasped. She was late.

Running through the halls, she burst into the class, her cheeks flushed red.  
"I'm – I'm sorry Mr. Garroway. I … I slipped in the hall." She stammered as a few giggles rose in the class. Luckily, the teacher knew her very well and simply sighed. "It's okay this time, Ms. Morgenstern. However, I don't wish to see this happen ever again."

"Of course, Sir. Thank you." She let out a sigh of relief. Looking around for a seat, she realized that almost all the seats were occupied in the classroom.

"Is there a problem, Clary?" Mr. Garroway was running out of patience, she could see. "I'm sorry sir, but I – I can't find a place to sit." She mumbled, and he looked about with his spectacles on his nose.

"Hmm … The attendance has turned out quite well this year, I must say. Oh, There!" He suddenly exclaimed. "The last seat in the corner, Clary. Next to –"

She didn't wait for him to look in his attendance sheet to find out as her throat suddenly went dry and her heart beat sped up.

"Jace Wayland."

As Clary slowly went to her assigned place, she noticed that Jace was quite busy with his sketchpad and pencil, which is why he gave a small start when he sat next to him.

He turned to her, his eyes piercing into hers for a second. She smiled uncertainly, tucking her hair beneath her ears. "Umm – hey. I'm Clary."

She felt surprise flash in his eyes, as if he expected her to run away scared from him. He nodded before softly replying. "Jace Wayland."  
His voice was soft and low, but rather intimidating.

Both of them turned to the professor as he clapped his hands for attention. "I'm sure you all know why you are in this class. It's an optional course, for those who want to participate in the yearly competition held by the Art College of London, but the grades will also be added up in your yearly report. I hope we won't have to begin with the basics, so let us now start with the more complex pencil strokes, shall we?"

As Clary held out her hand for a pencil from her case, her hand brushed with his. It was the slightest of contact, but she instantly felt him stiffen next to her, sharply exhaling. He pulled his hand back as if it was burnt, his eyes smoldering with an emotion she couldn't quite place.

After the class, as she watched him leave, Clary wondered if there was more to Jace Wayland than he let on.

 **XxXxXxXxX**

"WHHHAAATTT?"

Clary winced as she held the phone a few feet away from her ears to retain her sense of hearing.

"You're sitting next to JACE WAYLAND?" Isabelle rambled. "Bloody hell, Clary! HE'S SITTING NEXT TO YOU? YOU'RE SITTING NEXT TO HIM? Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod. You both are sharing the same oxygen, Clary. AAAHH! I think I'm going to faint." Isabelle chanted and Clary winced again, laughing.

"HANG ON THERE. I have something to tell you as well! I'll be there in a minute." Isabelle declared and before Clary could even open her mouth, she had hung up. Clary giggled before throwing her phone on her bed and pulling her hair into a messy pony tail.

"Clary? It's time for dinner, baby." Clary's mom called out from below the stairs. "Coming mum!" Clary bounded down the stairs, two at a time.

Jocelyn Morgenstern was a stunningly beautiful woman despite her age, with pale auburn hair that fell down her back in beautiful curls, unlike Clary's crimson mess.

She smiled as Clary plonked down on the dining table. "How was the first scholarship art class, kid?" She asked, sitting down in front of her.

"Am – azing." Clary said, popping her lips as she picked up a strawberry from the fruit basket. Her mom had set out the plates and Clary helped herself to a couple of cookies.

"Has anyone ask you on a date, yet? I mean, it's about time, isn't it?" Her mother asked her hopefully, and Clary glared at her.

" _MOM."_

Clary's mom sighed and shook her head. "Okay, okay. But you definitely need to move on from Sebastian, girl. Why, just this morning I burnt the picture you had left in your study table drawer of you two."

"YOU WHAT, MOM?"

Clary screeched, shooting from her seat. "Mom, I HID it there!" She wailed.

Not at all flustered by this outburst, her mom licked some pasta sauce off her lips. "Come on, Clary. I know he was your first boyfriend, but he was a jerk. You, Clary Morgenstern, deserve someone much better."

Clary opened her mouth to argue, but realized her mother was right. That picture was of their first date together, when they had gone out for a romantic dinner but lost their way and had ended having a splashing contest in the pool, and it was one of the best days of her life.

"Clary? Looks like Isabelle's here." Her mum grinned as they heard repeated impatient ringing on the door.

As Clary opened the door, Isabelle threw herself onto her.

"GUESS WHAT GUESS WHAT GUESS WHAT GUESS WHAT?"

Her voice came muffled from Clary's shoulders. Clary exhaled, not at all surprised. "What is it, Izzy?"

"He asked me out. He asked me out, Clary. Simon asked me out!" Isabelle jumped up and down, laughing.

Clary felt an abnormally large smile spread across her face as she gave her best friend a hug.

Frankly, she was not surprised as she had been expecting this to happen since a really long time. Simon, a guy from Isabelle's biology class was so in love with her that you could see it in his eyes. Clary knew he was scared of asking her out, but apparently he had finally done it.

"I get a treat, young woman." Clary laughed as Isabelle giggled, her eyes shining. "Like hell you do."

That night, as Clary curled into her duvet, her emerald eyes suddenly shot open.

She suddenly knew what she had seen in Jace's eyes.

 _Fear._

 **Dum-di-dum-di-dum.**

 **To my old readers, HEY! Thank you SO much for believing in me still. I PROMISE I won't let you down this time.**

 **To the ones who are new, PLEASE tell me what you think. I would love it.**


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